Epiphany
by Lunatic Silver
Summary: If it isn't broken... Post. Implied character death.


**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Skinwalkers_ nor its characters. They belong to LGF, After Dark, and whoever else screwed the movie up.

**Note/Warning:** DARK!fic. Written with the January/July '05 drafts canon in mind; not really movie canon compatible (mostly for dialogue).

***

**Epiphany**

It was almost four a.m. The deep indigo sky was filled with dimming twinkles. The half moon had disappeared behind the trees almost two hours ago. Dawn was approaching and coming fast.

Another night without the pull. Another night without the sweet scent of freedom. Another night feeling crippled and senseless and somehow able to drive. Another night gone by and countless more to survive.

Caleb wasn't sure if he was going to make it.

"_You wouldn't last a day."_

The fact that he had lived to prove Sonja wrong was no comfort. It only made things worse. Every time he remembered those words, heard the echo of her voice in his mind, recalled the desperation and panic in her eyes, he felt hollow and guilty for lasting as long as he had.

It wasn't right. He deserved to be with her; dead and rotting in Hell. He shouldn't be the one alive; everything somehow had gotten all mixed up.

Fate somehow got it backwards. It was supposed to be Jonas driving the U-Haul van.

Varek was supposed to be burning for eternity now. Next to Sonja, next to the others; together forever.

It wasn't supposed to be Caleb.

"_You can't hesitate."_

Maybe that had been the problem. If only he had listened to her – if he had never hesitated, Jonas would have attacked him sooner. Jonas would have survived somehow, and Varek would have met the same fate as his mate and brothers in arms. He wasn't meant to hesitate, and that brief moment staring at his son had thrown a kink in destiny.

It was all his fault. Every fucking thing was his fault after all. Every fucking death was his fault; he had murdered them all. He had taken from them all. He had raped them and martyred them.

"_You make us martyrs."_

He wasn't meant for this life. This was a fate worse than Hell. A life spent unable to ever truly pay for his sins, stuck in limbo. Perhaps it was a sort of Purgatory for him; a way to help his family while Hell made a special place in its bowels for Caleb Varek, the scourge of Humanists and Humanity.

Payment for ruining the way things were supposed to be.

"_I'm nothing like you."_

Jonas was so much better than him. So much better than Varek, and so much better than Caleb, and so much better than the person those two had devolved into. Jonas was meant for this life; meant to be human, meant to protect them, meant to love them. Meant to live.

Rachel and Timothy were asleep in the back. Mother and son; safe and sound.

"_I brought him into this world – I will take him out."_

It all suddenly became so clear. Crystal clear and bright as a full moon in the desert sky. It almost caused Caleb to hit the break. It was an epiphany, a revelation of near biblical proportions.

He wasn't in Hell. It wasn't a mistake. He had been looking at everything all wrong.

He didn't deserve to be dead. Nor did his pack; his beautiful Sonja was never meant for Hell's flames to devour her and drag her down. Not even his steadfast brother. None of them deserved death, an eternity away from earth and nature – their true mothers.

"_The alternative is unthinkable."_

"_I brought him into this world."_

"_I am what I was meant to be."_

"_I will take him out."_

"_I am not human."_

"_I brought him into this world."_

"_Diseased and flawed by design."_

"_And I... _

"...will take him out." Caleb smiled to himself. He always did need Varek to help him think clearly.

The sky was turning gray. It was time to take a rest. The U-Haul pulled off to the side of the road. Quietly it came to a stop. The engine went silent. The last few moments of night were dead silent until the driver's door opened.

Caleb hopped out. He walked around to the back of the van. And took a deep breath of freedom.


End file.
